


Area Fifty-One's New Resident

by TEC



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, F/M, area 51
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 02:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20128039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TEC/pseuds/TEC
Summary: Quipp is an alien, trapped in a strange human facility.Things could be worse.





	Area Fifty-One's New Resident

**Author's Note:**

> This was practically my first story. On a laptop at least. This...this is BAD. I didn't even know how to tab paragraphs back then, and it shows. This was written based on a drawn story prompt one of my closest friends gave me, to write a story for her. She is an incredible artist, and writing her characters into whatever story pops into my head has actually tremendously improve my writing skills. I will be looking forward to writing more stories, based on her awesome drawings.

Quipp looked out the window and sighed, tapping the bars with the tip of her tail, the feathers on it glimmering like the stones on her home planet.  
Planet. Is that what they called it? She was sure of it. Kind of.   
A loud bang woke her up from her wandering thoughts. A feral grin grew on her face, another one of her family members was coming to see her, to check on her. As if. Even though she hadn’t quite learned the complicated language of these weird creatures, she was not as stupid as they seemed to think she was. The sly, victorious grins on their faces whenever she did something they wanted her to do—which she did rarely—was all she needed to see to know she was in a potentially dangerous area.  
The man came to her cell, looking as uncaring as the rest of them.  
“Are you going to not attack us this time?”  
She whipped her tail at him in response, the beautiful feathers suddenly having a dangerous gleam to them.  
The man sighed, “one of those days, huh?” He chuckled, but she could tell it was a good-mannered one, he was one of the decent ones, one of the ones that never had that awful smile. He was just a warrior following orders, she could respect that—to an extent.  
She softened her feral grin at him once she saw who it was. How did you pronounce his name again? Wuh-lium? No, that didn’t sound right.  
“It’s William.”  
She started, her face must have given her away. She needed to work on that.  
William lowered his gun slowly, only when it was safely on the ground did he actually lower himself to the ground, beckoning Quipp forward. She obeyed, jumping down from her hammock—that’s what it’s called right?—with grace, and walked forward to the not-so-armed soldier, squatting down, just so she was just a little bit taller than him. He noticed this with an amused grin which she returned.  
“That’s my name, Quipp—William. Can you say it? Say it. Wil-lium, that ‘a’ in it is pronounced as a ‘u’ and the second ‘l’ is silent. Go on—try, you can do it!” She liked him more than the other soldiers and inmates. He was actually useful.  
She pronounced it with some difficulty, “wuh-wil-luh-um.” She lifted her chin up, like she was the best at the stupid language. William raised his eyebrows, but made no comment.  
“Try again. Please.” Another reason she tolerates him, he actually seems to have manners. He gestured to Quipp to try.  
“Wil-luh-um.” She said again.  
He looked pleased, but also had the look a teacher would give a student for not quite getting it. “Again, don’t try to pronounce the second ‘l’.”  
“Wil-li-um.” She smiled, pleased at herself.  
“Very good!” William said, clapping his hands like a proud parent.  
His clapping suddenly stopped, and looked like the joy was just sucked out of him.  
“Now the bad news.” Quipp narrowed her eyes dangerously, her tail making small whipping noises, slicing the air. William didn’t seem to be too happy about it either.  
He cleared his throat, as if those two seconds—maybe—would make the situation go away. “I’ll give you a hint, it rhymes with Monday and comes after Tuesday.” He backed away when Quipp’s tail attacked him through the bars, “Hey! Calm down!” She did, but only just. “I don’t like this anymore than you do, you think being the target for that blasted tail of yours is the highlight of my day?” She looked down, barely understanding his words, but recognizing the exasperated tone.  
William huffed a breath, at least she’s calmed down, he thought, “now that I got through to you…” He unlocked the doors and opened them, expecting that feathered tail of hers to come out, full swing. Instead, he got a calm, collected...whatever she was, he didn’t like that, so he gave her tail, that was swinging calmly, without any force, a playful tug. She did not like that.  
“Wu luh-tle!” She screeched, jumping on him with every intent to knock out the offending human, only for the world around her to immediately spin around her until she was on her back—with William sitting on her!  
“Give up?” The first words he taught her with this foolish game of theirs—the second?  
“Never.”  
He threw his head back, laughing. He stood up, and gently lifted up Quipp, who only swung her tail halfheartedly at him, they started walking side by side to the cafeteria, where all the others were eating. She was only allowed out once a day every week because she almost always got one of the other inmates furious and wanting to tear her apart. They never got close.  
As they were walking, she thought about her home, her planet. It was beautiful, almost inhospitable, but beautiful. She closed her eyes, trusting William enough to not let her hit a wall while she reminisced.  
She looked around at her world, the towering mountains of clear crystal, the subtle hints of blue and pink in the epic structures, every crystal as sharp as the swords they make with the few veins of metals they find, most likely sharper, stronger and heavier than anything they can make. They have been trying to make something, anything with the crystals, but they proved to be too tough for any chisel.  
Geysers, shoot up rivers-worth of boiling hot water into the air, then come down into metal bowls that layer out to be collected by the water-gatherers. Those geysers went from being their life-blood...to their destruction.  
A high pitched whistle made her open her eyes, escaping the maddening thoughts. Several inmates were either glaring at her or looked very interestingly at their food or feet. She noted with glee that at least half the population still had the bruises she gave them. William sat her down at her table, the only table that wasn’t full of other aliens. She was in front of the one they call Horn, they get along just fine. The first thing they said to one another was a joke about their horns. They didn’t say anything, just used hand gestures, she made fun of how his horns looked like giant rocks fell on his head and stayed there, he shot back that hers looked like something you used for picking up questionable items—they’ve gotten along ever since.  
He wasn’t really a ‘he’ per se. Horn said—gestured—that his people didn’t have genders, they bonded for life and only had one child—sometimes twins, but that was rare—after the bonding but no more, that one child was the only one they would have for the rest of their lives. But since everyone here had genders and he seemed to lean more to being a ‘he’ than a ‘she’, he just asked her to refer as such to avoid confusion.  
He was an odd creature her, he walked on all fours despite be a sentient being, his skin was blue like hers, but it was a few shades lighter and he had no feathers, only smooth skin, she heard one of the soldiers say he had the texture of a ‘whale or dolphin.’ Whatever that means. The only uneven part of him, was the set of scars on his side, which he said—gestured—he got from the soldiers nets when he was captured. He was tougher than her to, unlike with her, the guards seemed to avoid him as much as they could, without down right ignoring him completely.   
His tail had nothing attached to it, no feathers, no hardened rock-like skin, nothing, just the same skin texture as the rest of his body. Which is good, because it works as a third hand. He can throw with deadly accuracy with it, which he displayed when an orange hair- ball of a being tried to throw her, he aimed his fork at the fleshy part of its arm, making it drop her to the floor while the guards subdued it, he can pick a spoon and eat with it like it was anyone of his hands, which despite being four-legged still had thumbs, though they were more slender than that of humans and hers. His hands were like that humans and hers, but the thumbs were slimmer and the hands that were webbed, could cup like a bowl, this bowl-hand could hold incredibly cold and hot liquids with ease, which is useful, since he lives in a world that did not turn, but instead one side always faces the sun, while the other always faces away from the sun, making one side always meltingly hot, while the other was always covered with ice, the middle of the planet was the only place that was slightly hospitable.  
His face had small eyes, that were grey, slits that lacked a pupil. He could not see color like many, but instead he saw the most basic of shapes, and only shades of grey, with shadows being almost black, and lights being a either white or very light grey. He had a giant snout with very small nostrils, the small slither of livable land was always hit with sandstorms with constant, brutal force, making him need a good amount of strength from the moment he’s born, it he was not, they would have left him to die in the storm. His mouth could split into two separate pieces, a long tongue worked like a tube and drill that could pound into the cracks of rocks for bits of plant matter that contained small amounts of water and nutrients. His horns were two large stubs made for butting against rocks and fighting rival packs. His ears were tentacles that wrapped around his horns that then unwrapped to feel around the ground, or opened like a flower to hear small noises in the storms when needed.  
They both nodded at each other in acknowledgment, they weren’t really friends but they were close to friends as either were going to get. His tentacles unwrapped to feel a piece of hair, than his tail came to put it behind her ear. She smiled in thanks, even though he couldn’t see it because he just saw shapes, her face was just a circle and that piece of hair was just several small triangles attached to each other.  
William stood as close to the two as close as possible, until he was practically right next their table, watching over the two protectively. Horn said—gestured—in their secret language, “Brother’s here.” William was kind of like a brother in a way. He was protective, nurturing, not a total jerk.  
She gestured back, “I know, he escorted me here.” He moved his head, his version of a scuff since he couldn’t talk, and gestured, “lucky, I got square-head.” She snorted at this, even though he couldn’t hear the noise since his ears were wrapped around his head. Horn looked down, his version of looking nervous, and gestured, “Any nightmares?” It was her turn to look down, something Horn could actually notice, and shook her head, before she gestured, “Not this time.”  
Horn looked at William and tilted his head, while pointing a tail at me, at the same time putting his hand over his heart, “Were you protecting her?” Quipp glared at Horn, while William simply nodded, then put a hand to his heart, while pointing it to his head, the finger going up and down, imitating a gunshot, while shaking his head! “No nightmares.” This seemed to satisfy Horn because he looked back to his breakfast—she never ate in the cafeteria—and ate, his mouth only slightly splitting in half and his tail working a spoon to his tube-like tongue.  
Quipp looked around at the prison she was in, her shirt with her number on it being identical to the hundred or so others there. She looked at William, who was the only one brave enough to rush in her cell to wrap her in his arms while having a nightmare about the geysers exploding, spreading boiling water across her village, her actual brother pushing her into a prototype made of diamonds and then cold blackness that seemed to try to force its way in.   
She looked at Williams left arm, which would always hold the long scar that she gave him when her tail whipped him there in her panicked state. He bent down to her line of view to give her a big smile, she playfully whipped her tail at him. William held a hand to chest and pretended to be hit with what appeared to be lightning in her opinion. The other soldiers looked at him with disgust, some of the soldiers were pointing at him to others laughing and no doubt throwing insults his way, but he didn’t care. He just smiled more and backed up after his ‘dramatic’ display.  
She looked around, at Horn, and beckoned William, who immediately came over and looked at her questioningly. “Can you-uh-brea-fuss?” She knew she said that wrong. Quipp looked over and scowled when she saw One of Horn’s ears unwrapped, and pointed directly at them. He looked up, recognized that Quipp was looking at him and looked back down at his breakfast like he didn’t just try to listen in on their conversation and more importantly—her broken English. She didn’t miss Horn chuffing, the closest thing to a laugh he might ever get to. William looked pleasantly shocked, then without a word, saluted her—She whipped him for that as he ran off to get her food.  
Things could be worse.

**Author's Note:**

> This is so BAD! My friends drawing was so awesome, and I ruined it with this crud! Oh boy! At least you guys get to see my...humble beginnings, to say the least. I do hope reading my trash makes you feel better, and encourages you to write as well. You can't do worse than this, if you want encouragement.
> 
> Another milestone, this will be my first Slash! My first romantic relationship on this awesome site of ours! Even if it is only heavily implied, we both know they like each other.
> 
> I kept my promise with not looking over it, didn't I?  
DIDN'T I!?!?!?
> 
> Anyways, I am glad you made it this far, and I hope you stick around for my other stories.  
Happy writing, Bookworms!


End file.
